"It's okay, Rachel," I mumble. Her tone, a mixture of torture and agony, sc.r.a.pes at my soul. It's the same tone Rachel had when she felt I had betrayed her. "I'm sorry."

The cold fingers touching my head pause. Why isn't she warm?

"Oh, thank G.o.d. You're alive."

The voice is familiar, but not Rachel's. I fight the fog and force consciousness and every muscle screams as I stretch.

"I'm awake." Not what I meant to say. I meant to ask if she was okay. At the moment, brain and mouth aren't connected. My mind's jumbled; a scattered mess as I try to sort out why I fell asleep, why I'm in pain, why it's cold, why my bed's hard- "You scared the c.r.a.p out of me. I thought you were dead."

-why there's a girl in my bed wondering if I'm dead. I pry my eyes open and successfully free one. There's three of her at first and, through blinking, she slowly evolves into one. "I know you."

On her knees, Haley hovers near me. Behind her, my car sits, still running. The headlights highlight a couple of blond strands in her light brown hair.

"Why did you follow me?" she demands. "All you had to do was act like we were still talking. But no, you call out after me, then look to where I was heading. Why not skywrite I had bolted for the neighborhood?"

She's trembling. I reach out and rest my hand on her wrist. The skin beneath my own is ice. "You're cold."

"So are you. You're probably in shock."

My thumb swipes across her skin, as if that one movement could warm her. Protect her. "It's all right."

"No, it's not. None of this is all right." She removes her arm and I suddenly feel empty.

There's a tear on her face. Just one. And she quickly wipes it away. The action causes an ache beyond the pulsating of my skin and head. Something's wrong. My eyes dart around and I quickly catch up on events. I'm not in bed. I almost hit her with my car, we fought, I discovered she had trouble, I followed her here and then I got my a.s.s kicked. I lift my head and immediately regret the movement with a groan. "Are you okay?"

"You should have listened!"

Not an answer, and I left my patience back at the shopping plaza. "Are. You. Okay?"

"I'm fine," she snaps. "Just fine. Freaking fantastic fine. Meeting you is the pinnacle of my existence."

"Some people say thank you when a complete stranger jumps two guys for them."

Haley slumps against the b.u.mper of my car and a rush of air leaves her body. "Sorry and thank you. It's-" she waves her hand in the air "-messed up, but that's not your fault. It's mine."

A car slowly drives around us. I expect it to stop, but it keeps going. Great neighborhood. "They left my car."

"Yeah." She glances away. "They're gone."

My eyes narrow on her face, but she flips her hair so it's hiding her cheek and jaw. I blink as my sight blurs. Something's off. They would have stolen the car... "I need to get up." But not a single cell in my body responds. "They could come back."

"They won't." Haley nurses her right hand. "Trust me-they won't. At least not tonight. Tomorrow maybe, but not tonight."

Tomorrow? What? I rise onto my elbows and the nauseating spinning convinces me to ease my head back to the ground. Driving is going to be a b.i.t.c.h.

"Stop it. You need to stay still. In fact, you need an ambulance."

"No hospitals." Showing at an E.R. like this will cause Dad to go Chern.o.byl.

"Your friend told me the same thing. It's why I haven't called 911. Possibly a stupid decision on my part."

The pounding stills. "What friend?"

"Haley called Isaiah," says a female voice to the left. Haley and I jerk our heads toward the darkness. Haley bolts up and jumps over me, acting as if she's my protector.

I'm dreaming. This is all a bad dream. I'm going to wake tomorrow and think how crazy real this whole thing felt because there is no way my little sister's best friend would be here.

"I'm Abby," the voice says to Haley, closer now. "You and I go to Eastwick together."

Like a stunning yet s.a.d.i.s.tic version of the grim reaper with long dark hair, Abby walks into the light wearing a black hoodie and skintight blue jeans.

"No, you don't," I mumble. "Eastwick is a public school. Abby goes to private school. Not mine-one of those religious ones." Saint Mary's. Saint Martha's. Saint who-the-f.u.c.k-knows. It's what Rachel told my mother. This is a dream. Just a dream.

Haley's eyes flicker from me to Abby, then back again. She never relaxes her position and my mind stops and starts like it's stuttering. f.u.c.k me-Haley's in the same stance as fighter guy.

"I've seen you around," Haley says to Abby. "Do you know him?"

"Yeah. Do you?"

"We sort of ran into each other."

I laugh and they both stare at me like I'm insane.

"That's West." Abby slurs my name. "He's been causing problems for a friend of mine."

Haley edges herself between me and Abby like she's willing to box this girl for me.

Abby chuckles. "Relax. You called Isaiah and Isaiah called me. For the moment, I'm playing guardian angel."

Isaiah? "h.e.l.l no." I shove off the ground like I'm doing a sit-up and only get far enough to prop my arms on my knees. I've never liked rides that went in circles and I haven't recently changed my mind. My eyes shut tight. "I don't want that b.a.s.t.a.r.d's help."

"Well, you're getting it," says Abby. When I reopen my eyes, Abby smirks. "And it looks like you need it."

"Screw that," I mutter and spit out new blood that's trickled from the cut on my lip.

Isaiah is Rachel's boyfriend and he's the reason why she's in the hospital. Dad found Rachel with him at a dragway and that's where Dad and Rachel had their accident. I'll roast in h.e.l.l and haul Isaiah there with me before I accept his help. "How does he know about this?"

Haley drops beside me. "You were out. Cold. I found your cell and I was desperate to find someone who knew you to see what hospital you should go to, so I dialed the first number I found-"

"And he answered," I cut her off. Haley must have called Rachel. My brother told me that except for a few hours here and there Isaiah's been chained to Rachel's bedside at the hospital. Night and day. And that he carries her phone because he discovered it in the wreckage the day after the Jaws of Life pulled her out of the car. We a.s.sumed it was broken. Who would have guessed a phone would make it when Rachel barely survived?

"West." Haley surveys the damage to my face, my hands, my body. "I really am sorry."

G.o.d, I'm jacked up because everything pounds like a b.i.t.c.h and I can only think about her beautiful dark eyes. "It's all right."

She grabs a bag off the ground and stands. "I've got to go. I'm late."

Abby tilts her head as she a.s.sesses Haley. "You know who I am?"

Haley straightens like she's greeting an ax murderer. "Yes."

I'm missing entire puzzle pieces here, as in everything except for the one corner piece I hold. Nothing here is as it seems, and I hate being the odd man out.

Abby thrusts her chin in my direction. "His younger sister is my best friend. I can help you...with whatever situation this is."

"No," says Haley quickly. "I'm fine. Look, I've really got to go." She takes a step into the darkness.

"What the h.e.l.l are you two talking about?" They ignore me, and why shouldn't they? It's not like I could get up and force them to listen.

Abby shrugs. "If you change your mind..."

"I won't." Haley finally turns her attention to me. "Thanks, West. But the next time a girl tells you to do something, do it, okay?"

I'd call her nothing but att.i.tude if it weren't for the defeat in her tone. "Haley..."

She doesn't wait for me to talk; instead she races down the street. f.u.c.ked. Up. Dream. I rub my eyes and consider standing.

Abby's tennis shoes crunch against the crumbling blacktop and halt at my feet. "Your choice-home, hospital or a place to lay low until you're ready for one of the first two options. The prize behind curtain C comes with a shower and a change of clothes."

I dismiss my original answer of no when I notice the blood on my shirt. I can't go home or to the hospital like this. I can't do that to my mother.

Using the b.u.mper of my car, I struggle up and hobble to the pa.s.senger side as I eye Abby sliding into the driver's seat. I'm slow getting in, but I'll be d.a.m.ned if I ask for help.

The interior light dims when I shut the door. Abby fastens her seat belt and wraps her fingers around the steering wheel. "I don't have my driver's license."

"Can you drive?"

"Sure."

That didn't sound rea.s.suring. "Just go."

She doesn't. "You should buy goldfish."

"What?"

"For your car. Like build a tank in between your front and back seats. It'd be different and I like different."

If it will get me to a shower faster... "Okay."

She smiles. "Really?"

"Sure."

Abby shifts the car into gear. "And, West?"

I roll my head to look at her.

"I know your mother's secret."

Haley I'm late.

My feet pound rhythmically against the pavement. Is my uncle standing by the door waiting? Will he grant me mercy since it's my first offense? I have no idea how he'll react, and, I'll admit, my uncle terrifies me.

I'm in shock. I know it. I'm calm. Too calm. And nothing hurts. After what happened...I round the corner and light shines through the cracks of the closed curtains, but the porch is completely dark. At night, the small vinyl house radiates an eerie white glow. My legs slow as I approach. I am so screwed.

"Pssst. Haley!" It's a whispered shout from above. My cousin Jax leans out the attic window. His whitish-blond hair shines in the moonlight. "Through here."

Wary of spying eyes, I cut across the neighbor's yard and approach the side of the house through the shadows. My brother Kaden paces behind Jax. Mom must be a nervous wreck and Dad... Dad needs this medication.

Before stepping closer to the house, I peer at the living room window again. If the two of them get caught helping me, they'll also be kicked out for the night. Because he's seventeen and their arguments have moved from heated to toxic, Jax's dad would possibly throw him out for good.

"Come on, girl, move," says Jax. "It's cold."

"Catch!" I launch the bag up to Jax. The first indication I had been in a fight reveals itself as my biceps convulse and the bag hardly makes it two feet. I catch it and panic flickers in my bloodstream. If I can't toss a bag, how am I climbing up?

"Again!" commands Jax.

I fling the bag again. My heart tears past my rib cage when Jax falls out the window to grasp the bag. I stifle the scream when I notice Kaden holding on to his legs. Jax fires the bag through the window, then dangles headfirst and waves his hands. "Let's go."

Taking two burning cold gulps of air, I stumble backward into the darkness. The frozen ground crunches beneath my feet. I swallow, lick my lips and narrow my eyes. I can do this. I'm a champion kickboxer. If I did that, I can do this. If I could do what I did a few minutes ago...

I derail that train of thought. I don't want to think about that now.

Or ever.

Again.

I'm not a fighter. Not anymore.

With one last deep inhalation, I run straight toward the house, kick off against the vinyl and fumble with the old trellis. I climb until my palm smacks into Jax's. His other hand grabs on to my flailing wrist and, seconds later, both he and Kaden pull me through the window.

The moment my b.u.t.t hits the floor, Jax shuts the pane and Kaden drops a blanket over me. "What happened?"

"I'm late." Yes, I'm definitely in shock.

"Noticed." Kaden ducks his head under the beams of the vaulted ceiling as he crosses the compact attic s.p.a.ce. This is my room. Better yet, it's what my life has been reduced to: a blow-up mattress among boxes of old clothes, picture frames, spiderwebs and the smell of mildew.

Kaden cracks open the attic door and stares through the one-inch s.p.a.ce. Sounds from the television mingle with the voices of my mother and aunt. There's a thud followed by a grunt. Probably Jax's brothers wrestling in the room below us.

"Haley," says Kaden. My brother and I used to be close. Like everything else in my life, I miss him. When I say nothing, he rattles the bag in his hands. "Where's Dad's meds?"

"In the bag."

"No, they're not."

"What?"

"There's lettuce in there and no meds."